Step by Step
by theirhappystory
Summary: Felicity Merlyn has a problem. His name is Oliver Queen and he is he older brother's best friend.
1. Step One

**Author's Note: So this little piece is a result from a prompt I received on Tumblr forever ago. It was originally a one-shot that then turned into a three-parter. I already have this posted on AO3 in a series format, but since that's not an option here I'm just going to post it as a quick little three-chapter story. I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **(Oh, and just for reference Felicity is 18 while Oliver is 21. Only a three year difference this time around.)**

 **...**

Step One: Admit You Have a Problem

Felicity Merlyn has a problem. A six foot, one inch problem with chiseled abs and sandy blonde hair. His name is Oliver Queen and he's her older brother Tommy's best friend.

It's a total cliché, she's well aware and honestly she even judges herself sometimes for it. Oliver isn't exactly a good guy. He parties, a lot. He gets in trouble with the law and drops schools like they're yesterday's newspaper. He also has quite a reputation with women. Well, at least he used to. Lately Oliver's been pretty clean.

The point is he's the exact opposite of Felicity's type.

Only she's insanely attracted to him. So much so that she kissed Oliver last night. Well, kissed is sort of an understatement. Heavily made out with him in the sand is a more adequate description.

It was a stupid move, so incredibly stupid. So why is she still thinking about it?

It's the twentieth annual Queen-Merlyn family beach vacation and the kids – that being Oliver, his younger sister Thea, Tommy, and herself – had come up a few days earlier than the adults. Obviously this meant that Tommy and Oliver were going to throw a huge rager at their multi-million dollar beach mansion – not house, mansion – the second night they were there. And that they did.

The party was in full swing. People were throwing each other in the pool, the bass from the music was vibrating the stone patio if that were even possible, and tons of sweaty bodies writhed against each other under the influence of alcohol and probably more than one illegal substance. Most of the partygoers were people Tommy and Oliver had invited and around the same age as them, twenty-two, save for Felicity and Thea at their respective ages of eighteen and seventeen. No one seemed to care though as a red Solo cup was shoved into each of their hands.

Things went on as expected for about the first hour and a half of the party. Thea and Felicity sipped their drinks and danced to the beat of the music together, goofing off and enjoying not having a care in the world for the time being. And seeing as their worlds were pretty complicated, it was a much-needed reprieve. Then a boy in a red hoodie who looked like he was sculpted by the Abercrombie gods started flirting with Thea and that was the end of that.

Felicity didn't mind, honestly. She was starting to get overwhelmed by the atmosphere anyway, could feel the alcohol buzzing in her system and new she would need to take a break soon or risk facing the wrath of Big Brother. So when Thea had asked Felicity if she minded her accepting Abercrombie's invitation to dance, Felicity had wholeheartedly urged her on, which is how she ended up walking down the beach and stumbling upon one very attractive, surprisingly alone Oliver Queen.

"Hey, I heard there's a huge party going on back that way. Lots of booze, lots of girls. Sounds like your kind of scene."

At the sound of her voice, Oliver shifts his gaze from the foaming edges of the sea to the blonde walking towards where he's seated in the sand. A genuine smile spreads across his face as he beckons for Felicity to join him.

"Yeah, thought I might check it out a little later. What are you doing down here?"

"Oh you know, just getting some fresh air."

She leaves out the part where his little sister left to grind with some guy. Probably not what he wants to hear about.

"What about you? Isn't it rude for the host to leave his own party?"

"Probably. But when has that ever stopped me before?"

"Point."

Felicity takes a seat beside him, careful not to get too close. There's no telling what she'll do with a little liquid courage in her.

They sit in silence for a few minutes; both of them content to watch the rolling and breaking of waves on the California coast. The sounds of the ocean lull them into a sense of calm and security, the scent of the sea carried on the breeze.

It's Oliver who breaks the silence.

"Laurel's here."

"Oh."

So that's why he's avoiding the party.

"I don't… It's not that I want to get back together with her or that I'm jealous of her and Tommy. It's just… I'm realizing that who I was with her is not who I want to be anymore and seeing her, it reminds me of how much I've screwed up."

Wow. Okay, she was not expecting that. At all.

"Am I a bad person, Felicity? Be honest."

Felicity studies his profile, trying to discern if he's only saying this because he's been drinking or if it comes from a genuine place. To her surprise, he appears almost completely sober and a glance down at his hand reveals that he's holding a water bottle, not a glass of beer like she had expected to find.

"No. No, you're not a bad person, Oliver. You've just made some mistakes, that's all."

He turns to look at her, blue meeting blue like the tides before them.

"I've fucked up so much of my life. I don't know where to start putting it back together."

"People make mistakes. It happens. What's important is you acknowledge that and learn from them. I don't think you're as irredeemable as you believe yourself to be."

His gaze is captivating, a whirlwind of emotions that sucks her in, beckons to her to come closer like a siren's song. Without realizing it she begins to lean in, gaze flickering down to his mouth for the briefest of seconds before returning to his face, only to find Oliver doing the same.

"You really believe that?"

His voice is deeper than it was a second ago and posses an edge that has Felicity shivering for reasons that have nothing to do with the chilly ocean breeze. In fact, the shiver strikes a heat in her, sends her heart racing as she moves closer still.

"Yeah, I do."

And then in what is probably the stupidest move she's ever made, Felicity surges forward to press her mouth against Oliver's.

At first she freezes against him in shock at her own actions. She just kissed Oliver Queen, a guy four years older than her, a guy who is her older brother's best friend. For someone with a genius IQ, this really was an idiotic idea.

But then something happens that makes any form of coherent thought impossible. He kisses her back.

Threading his fingers through the hair at the back of her head, Oliver changes the angle of the kiss. It's deeper, more sensual and Felicity's toes curl in the sand at the sensation. Eager for more, she presses forward, parting her lips when his tongue begs for entrance. A groan leaves Oliver's mouth and it sends a thrill through Felicity that only serves to further her enthusiasm.

Somehow she ends up in his lap, straddling Oliver as his mouth breaks away from hers and trails down her jawline to the delicate expanse of her neck. Running her hands through his newly cropped hair, Felicity pulls Oliver closer to her and moans in approval when he sucks at her sensitive flesh. He bites and tastes and laves his tongue over the area until she's sure it's bruised, the rough feel of his stubble against her skin heightening the sensation. With a wet pop, he releases the skin, groaning as Felicity dips her head to return the favor.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

She would be concerned if he didn't practically growl the words at her while tightening his grip on her waist to pull her further into his lap.

"No, we shouldn't."

Their mouths meet once again, furiously pressing against each other as their hands wander.

"You're Tommy's little sister."

His hands wander to her ass and squeeze.

"You're Thea's older brother."

Hers slip beneath the hem of Oliver's Polo to run across his defined torso.

"I'm bad for you."

His hips jerk up into hers, causing them both to moan into each other's mouths.

"I don't care."

And it might have gone further had it not been for the whooping and hollering of drunken college kids a couple yards in the distance.

The ocean might as well have come up the shore and crashed down on them. Felicity scrambles off of Oliver's lap at a speed even she didn't know she possessed. They stare at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving, like deer caught in headlights. Neither one of them knows exactly what to make of what just happened.

Unknowingly, Felicity lifts a hand to her mouth, gently running her fingers over kiss-swollen lips. Oliver's eyes track the motion before quickly looking away.

"I, uhm, better go back to the party before Tommy starts worrying."

"That's a good idea."

"I'll… see you later?"

The words come out more as a question than a statement because honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if he spent the rest of this vacation avoiding her like the plague.

"Yeah."

"Okay, then."

The sting of tears behind her eyes has Felicity quickly turning on her heel and striding towards the house.

The tears start falling before she even makes it back.

So why does all of this matter? It matters because now she's sitting across from Oliver at dinner with both of their families, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. And people are starting to notice that something's off. Thea has already given Felicity a weird look more than once and Tommy actually asked if she was feeling okay. If the ground opened up and swallowed her hole she would be forever grateful.

"Felicity, darling, are you sure you're alright? You've barely touched your food."

The blonde glances at Moira Queen sitting diagonal from her and manages a small, placating smile.

"I'm fine. Just had a big lunch and a few too many snacks is all."

It's a lie. She hasn't eaten all day.

"Oh, well then maybe you and Oliver would like to take some of the plates into the kitchen and start cleaning since you both seem to be finished."

Felicity tries her best not to startle at the sound of his name, but can't help the quick flicker of her eyes from mother to son and then back again.

"I can do it. It's fine. Oliver doesn't have to help. I'm sure he has other things he would rather be doing."

"No, I don't have anything planned. I can help you."

Why, oh, why does he insist on helping? Isn't it pretty clear she's embarrassed enough without being in close proximity to him? She would think he'd jump at the chance to not be near her.

"Wonderful. Thank you, sweetheart."

They go about collecting a few empty dishes off the table, the clink of silverware mixing with the conversation of those gathered in the large dining room overlooking the sea. Felicity doesn't glance at Oliver once as they head for the kitchen, making a beeline for the sink as soon as she steps through the door.

"You can leave the plates on the counter. I'll rinse them and put them in the dishwasher."

Please just go away.

"Felicity."

"Seriously, it's fine. It won't take me that long."

She flicks on the facet and grabs the first plate, scrubbing furiously at it with the soapy sponge.

"Felicity."

"There aren't even that many dishes yet. Maybe five minutes top. You're good."

"Felicity!"

The sudsy serving plate almost slips from her hands at the forcefulness of his voice. She gently places it at the bottom of the sink and braces her hands on the counter, eyes screwed shut.

"What?"

"Look at me."

She doesn't, can't. The humiliation from last night flares back up, tears pricking her eyes.

"What do you want, Oliver? I'm sorry, okay? It was a mistake. We were drinking. It happens."

"I wasn't drunk."

Her body stiffens as Felicity feels him come closer, stepping up behind her. She refuses to turn around.

"Okay. You weren't drunk. I was."

No she wasn't. Tipsy, maybe. Drunk, no.

"No you weren't."

Damn it.

Sighing, Felicity shakes her head and allows it to hang dejectedly.

"What do you want, Oliver?"

"In a word? You."

An involuntary shudder rakes through her at his reply, slight arousal mixing with stunned surprise. Oliver takes another step closer and cages her in, hands landing just outside of Felicity's on the counter as he gently presses his chest against her back.

"Truth is, I've wanted you for awhile now. And not just for your body. You're remarkable, Felicity, mind, body, and soul. I've never come across anyone quite like you and now that I've tasted what it's like to have you, I can't get it out of my mind."

By the end of his confession, Oliver's head has fallen to rest against the back of hers. The feel of his hot breath against the back of her neck coupled with his confession has Felicity trembling, fighting desperately for control.

This whole time she thought it had been a drunken accident, a horrible mistake on her part. To know that he can't get their encounter on the beach out of his memory either is… it's game changing.

"Oliver? Felicity? Everything alright in there?"

With a frustrated sigh, Oliver distances himself from her, but not before placing a tender kiss on the back of her neck, left bare by her high ponytail. Even that brief moment of contact is enough to send Felicity's body reeling as blood rushes through her veins.

"Yeah, Mom, everything is fine!"

She can feel his gaze burning into her skin even as Oliver answers Moira's enquiry and she can't help shifting a little on her feet.

"Felicity, you don't have to say anything right now. But I needed to make sure that you know this isn't one sided. I was as much a participant in what happened last night as you were. So just… think about it, okay? I'm going to check if there are anymore plates that need to be cleared."

She listens to the sound of his retreating footsteps, chancing a glance in Oliver's direction just as he exits the room. With a sigh she shakes her head and grabs the abandon dish from the bottom of the sink, returning to her previous task in hopes of distraction as she whispers to herself.

"Pull it together. He's only going to cause you trouble."

Felicity Merlyn has a problem and his name is Oliver Queen.


	2. Step Two

Step Two: Avoid the Problem

Three days.

That's how long Felicity successfully avoids being alone with Oliver. On more than one occasion they had been left in a room together, only for her to quickly make some sort of half-assed excuse and get the hell out of dodge. They were terrible excuses, really, and if Oliver's knowing smirks were anything to go by he wasn't buying anything she was selling. Luckily, he seemed to be genuine in his request for her to think things over.

And think she did. Their kiss on the beach, more like make out session if Felicity is being honest with herself, is all that she has been able to think about. It stained her thoughts like permanent ink, bold and impossible to erase, with no stark white corrector fluid to cover up her mistake. It's a shame there is no backspace key in life. But even if there was, would she use it now?

"What's on your mind, _Le Penseur_? That's the French, for 'The Thinker', as in Rodin's sculpture."

"Thank you for that impromptu lesson in art history, Thea."

Her friend rolls her eyes as she lies down on the pool chair beside Felicity, pushing the blonde over with her body in order to make room.

"Gotta practice for my class trip next semester. Now seriously, what's on your mind? You've been uncharacteristically quiet these past few days and it's honestly starting to freak me out a little."

Cheering from the beach just a few yards away draws Felicity's attention. A couple of beach volleyball courts were set up earlier for guests of the Merlyn-Queen Fourth of July cookout to enjoy and the boys wasted no time in starting a tournament once the twenty-something crowd arrived. Oliver and Tommy currently stand on one side of the net, the infamous Lance sisters on the other. The ball is served and Felicity can't help the way her eyes lock onto Oliver's tanned and muscular form as he dives for it. Even from her spot on the pool deck she can make out the definition in his arms and back, left bare due to the extreme summer heat. The sight alone causes warmth to pool in her belly and Felicity quickly glances away, a faint blush on her cheeks.

"Oh gross. You were totally just checking Ollie out."

"What? No, I wasn't!"

Felicity scoffs before taking a sip of her iced tea in an effort to cool her flaming cheeks. It doesn't work.

"Well it's either him or Tommy, and since Tommy is your brother I'd say that is clearly out of the picture. But hey, I get it. You wouldn't be the first one of my friends to have the hots for brother dearest."

Glancing around nervously, she checks to see if anyone has heard their conversation. Luckily none of the adults seem to be paying the two teenagers any mind, immersed in their business talks and gossip while they sip their drinks from the open bar.

"Keep your voice down! People will hear you!"

"So you were staring at him!"

"I - no, I was - that was not - I was not staring at him!"

Thea arches an eyebrow as she watches Felicity fumble for words, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"Sure you weren't. It's okay if you have a crush on him. I think yourbrother is cute."

The blonde stands abruptly, nearly knocking over her glass in the process and drawing a few curious glances from some of the partygoers around them. She smiles politely and they soon go back to whatever it is they were conversing about.

"I am so not having this conversation. I'm going to go see if Raisa needs any help in the kitchen."

Felicity hastily makes her escape, scurrying across the large stone patio and up the steps. A set of large French doors leads into the interior of the beach house, more like mansion, and she continues to beeline it straight to the kitchen. There are, thankfully, very few people in the room when she arrives. Most of the servers and other staff are out on the patio or beach area attending to the guests. Raisa, the Queens' primary housekeeper, smiles kindly at her.

"What can I do for you, Miss Felicity?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, Raisa. I just needed some peace and quiet for a minute."

"Of course. Take all of the time you need."

The older woman gives her a warm smile and nods in understanding before she busies herself with placing fresh strawberries around a rather large vanilla cake. Felicity watches as each bright red slice is strategically placed, lining the edge of the dessert before Raisa begins on an intricate pattern toward the middle. Felicity loses herself in thought as she observes and must zone out for awhile because the next thing she hears is the pleasant tone of the house keeper softly calling her name.

"Huh? Sorry, just things going on up here. What did you say?"

"I asked if you would like to help with dressing the cake, _solnyshko_."

"Oh, yes, sure. What do you need me to do?"

Raisa gestures over Felicity's shoulder and moves a few strawberry slices around just slightly before wiping her hands on an ocean blue hand towel sitting on the counter.

"Grab the whipping cream from the pantry and start placing scoops between the strawberries while I run outside to check on the buffet table."

"Sure!"

Felicity pushes off of the bar stool she has been sitting on and makes her way down a small hallway off to the side toward the pantry, bare feet slapping softly against the hardwood floor as she goes. 'Pantry' is a relative term for the room she steps into. Three or four average sized people could easily fit in here alongside all the food and still have adequate room to breathe. It's a bit extensive for Felicity's tastes, but at least they never run out of tam-tam crackers. Those are her favorite.

Searching the overstocked shelves, it takes the blonde a few moments to locate the canned confection, and when she does she spots it on the very top shelf. Because of course it is. That would be just her luck. Felicity pushes up onto the balls of her feet, attempting to grow her miniature five-foot-three form to a massive six-foot-one so that she can reach. Unsurprisingly she is not successful in this venture.

"Come on! Why do you have to be so far away?"

She tries again, this time jumping in hopes of being able to knock the can off of the shelf and hopefully catch it before it tumbles to the ground. She misses. With a sigh of frustration, Felicity lets her arms fall by her sides, palms slapping against the outside of her thighs, left bare by her cut-off denim shorts. Looking around, she attempts to locate a stepping stool or a crate or something that can help her vertically challenged state, but comes up empty handed. Felicity is just about to test the stability and support structure of the bottom most shelf when someone clears their throat behind her. The noise startles her, having not heard anyone approach, and Felicity whirls around to locate the source.

 _Oliver_.

He's standing there in the doorway of the pantry, leaning to one side, charming smirk firmly in place. Her eyes are immediately drawn to his toned arms crossed in front of his, thankfully clothed, chest. The muscles of his forearms are pulled taut and pronounced against the dark blue of his shirt and Felicity gets the most ridiculous urge to trace the bumps and ridges with her tongue.

 _Ugh_ , gross.

It should honestly be illegal for someone to be this attractive, to make her want to do embarrassing things that she's scoffed at other girls for fantasizing about. Yet here he is, unrestrained and allowed to roam freely throughout the human population, wreaking havoc on the libidos of many. It's just ridiculously unfair.

"Afternoon, Felicity."

"Oh frack."

Oliver quirks an eyebrow at her greeting, smirk transforming into an all out grin as she begins to stumble over her words.

"I mean - not that - uh, hi! What are you doing here? In the pantry? With me? Alone?"

Great. Now she's babbling.

Felicity quickly presses her lips together to stop herself from going any further. Oliver's eyes flicker down to her mouth for a brief second before he looks away, grin slipping off his face as his composure falters. He only loses it for the briefest of moments, but Felicity catches his change in demeanor almost instantly.

"Thea said you would be in the kitchen. I heard you scolding the nonperishables when I walked in."

Her heart may or may not speed up a little at the implication that he was looking for her.

"Oh… yeah, I was just getting the whipped cream for Raisa."

Okay, why is she suddenly so out of breath?

"Do you need some help?"

"Uhm…"

On one hand, she definitely won't be able to reach the canister on her own, and depending on the bottom shelf to support her weight is probably a really terrible idea. But on the other hand, if he comes any closer to her in this enclosed space Felicity isn't all too sure she can be held responsible for her actions.

"It's either that or break the bottom shelf trying to use it as an impromptu step stool."

Heat blossoms across her cheeks at his words as she rushes to defend herself.

"I wasn't going to… how did you know?"

Oliver chuckles, the sound low and deep in his throat, and pushes off the doorframe. He moves in Felicity's direction, to which she reacts by taking a few steps back of her own. The action causes a questioning look to cross Oliver's face before he responds.

"You were probably too young to remember, but I tried the same thing when I was eight, attempting to get to a bag of Russian candies Raisa always kept on the top shelf. I didn't even make it past the first one before it gave out under my weight. I got an earful of Russian and a very red butt that day."

"Well your butt is just fine now so at least there was no permanent damage."

Felicity eyes widen in shock at her own boldness and she takes another step back, bumping into the shelves of food behind her. Oliver, at least, seems thrilled by the comment. His smile is about a mile wide across his face as he closes the distance between them, amusement shining in his bright blue eyes.

"Felicity Merlyn, did you just drop a line on me?"

"What? No! What I meant was, I'm glad you weren't permanently scarred by that particular incident. And that you learned a valuable lesson that day. Although that's not to say you don't have a nice butt. I'm sure it's a great one. Not that I spend much of my time looking at it! Or any time at all really! I mean -"

Oh God. She needs to just _stop_. _talking_. But he's standing right in front of her now, pretty much chest to chest, and Felicity can smell the combination of sweat, ocean salt, and cologne coming off of him. Coupled with that smile it's probably the most distracting thing she's ever seen, so excuse her for forgetting to use her already impaired brain to mouth filter.

"Felicity, I'm just teasing you. I know that's not what you meant."

Then Oliver is reaching up to the top shelf and the motion tugs his t-shirt upwards, revealing a sliver of his suntanned torso. The glimpse of that delicious V-shaped muscle at his hips causes Felicity to swallow, hard. She imagines what it would feel like to run her fingers over it, to feel the muscle jump and twitch beneath her touch. He would probably make the most attractive sounds when… Felicity's eyes slam shut as she tries to put the brakes on that particular train of thought. She has just barely accepted the fact that she has feelings other than friendship for Oliver and now all of the sudden her brain has decided to buy a fast track ticket to HornyVille. Go figure.

"Is this what you were trying to get?"

She opens her eyes and finds Oliver holding the can of whipped cream between them, flirtatious grin still in place, and making no move to step away from her. She's never noticed just how captivatingly blue his eyes are, like the summer sky on a cloudless day.

"Uh huh."

Reaching into the miniscule space between them, Felicity carefully grabs the can of sugary goodness from him. Instead of finally pulling away from her like she expects him to do, Oliver braces one hand on a shelf by her head and the other takes hold of her hip. His touch is gentle enough that she doesn't feel trapped, and Felicity knows that Oliver is intentionally leaving her side closest to the door open so that she can leave if she feels uncomfortable. His eyes flicker down to her lips, painted cherry red, and Felicity's tongue involuntarily peeks out to wet them. The action causes Oliver's eyes to darken from sky blue to the deep color of a stormy sea. His gaze doesn't waver from her mouth as he speaks.

"Do you know how hard it has been for me to give you space now that I know what you taste like?"

Frack. He's not supposed to say things like that to her. He's really, reallynot. It does this thing to the rhythmic beating of her heart and causes heat to pool low in her belly.

"I might have an idea."

Felicity can't help glancing at his lips, remembering how insistent and warm they were against hers. Her breath catches as Oliver's thumb slips beneath the hem of her tank top, brushing back and forth over her hipbone. Tiny sparks radiate from the point of contact, sending a hum of electricity through her body that only makes her crave more. The hand not clutching the whipped cream to her chest comes to rest in the crook of his elbow, his muscles jumping beneath her touch just like she imagined they would.

Before Felicity realizes what's happening, Oliver is leaning down to close the space between them. Her eyes fall shut and her hand tightens around his forearm as he presses her back against the shelves, bodies now perfectly aligned. She prepares to lose herself in the sensation of his mouth against hers, his tongue coaxing her to open up to him. But that never happens. Instead, Oliver holds himself back, his nose bumping against her glasses and their lips just barely brushing against each other as he whispers to her.

"Tell me you want this. Tell me it's okay. Please, Felicity."

" _Yes_."

It's breathy and barely a word, but it's enough.

They come together in a desperate pairing of lips and teeth and tongues, neither of them hesitant in their actions. Felicity quickly drops the can of whipped cream, barely registering as it clatters against the hardwood floor. Her fingers card through the short strands of his hair, slick with sweat, and tug him closer when she reaches the base of his skull. Oliver grunts against her mouth, hands reaching down to grip her ass in retaliation. The action draws a moan from Felicity and then she's being hoisted into the air. She squeaks in surprise, causing Oliver to laugh against her mouth. Only it's not really a laugh, more like a series of huffs due to the lack of oxygen they are both experiencing. Their mouths part, but their bodies don't, pushing against each other in search of delicious friction as Felicity wraps her legs around his waist.

"You okay?"

She can scarcely hear his question over the sounds of their heavy breathing.

"Yeah, just, keep going."

However, instead of returning his mouth to hers, Oliver bends down and begins to feather kisses all along her jaw and the gentle slope of her neck. Felicity's head falls back and to the side, giving his mouth better access to her sensitive skin. Her entire body feels like it's on fire in the best way possible, every point of contact with Oliver becoming a hotspot of sensation. It's numbing and thrilling at the same time, dulling her sense to anything else but him. His lips dance over a spot just beneath her ear that has Felicity making these embarrassing little mewling noises. If the way Oliver zeroes in on the spot and rocks his body against hers is anything to go by, he's enjoying her reaction.

Felicity's hands wander beneath his shirt, her fingers dancing over the toned expanse of his abs. The muscles ripple beneath her touch and she wants the offending article of clothing that stands between her and an up close and personal encounter with his ridiculously built torso gone. Now.

Impatient hands push and pull at the thin cotton fabric of his shirt, signaling her intent. Oliver detaches his mouth from her throat and leans back in order to pull the article of clothing up and over his head, dropping it to the floor beside him. Felicity's eyes are instantaneously glued to his toned stomach, counting each defined abdominal muscle until she reaches eight.

God, he is unbelievably in shape.

Oliver chuckles deep in his throat, causing Felicity's eyes to widen in realization.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

The way his stomach muscles contract when he speaks is kind of mesmerizing, and Felicity finds herself reaching out to trace her fingers over the indentations. Oliver sucks in a sharp breath as her hands wander dangerously low to the indentations at his hips and bends back down to press his mouth against hers with renewed vigor. One of his hands buries itself in Felicity's hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. He teases her bottom lip with his teeth just enough to make her moan into his mouth and swivel her hips against his.

" _Fuck_ , Felicity. You keep doing that and this is going to be over before it even begins."

Oliver pants the words against her mouth as she repeats the action, causing a small wave of satisfaction to run through her. She's doing this to him. He's losing his breath, his control, and it's all because of her. Rumors of Oliver Queen's… extensive knowledge and experience in the bedroom are always a hot topic of gossip at Starling Prep, and the guy graduated three years ago. Felicity, on the other hand, can count the number of guys she's slept with on one hand. Even if that hand were missing four out of five fingers. If she had the mental capacity for it right now, she would probably be experiencing a bit of a power trip.

The hot, callused palms of Oliver's hands smoothe up Felicity's sides and over her ribcage, dragging her tank top up along with them. She gets the hint and lifts her arms above her head as he quickly strips her of the garment. He doesn't waste any time, swiftly leaning back in to press his lips against her collarbones. His large hands splay over her shoulder blades and lower back, urging Felicity to arch into him, which she does with gusto. Her head falls back and hits a shelf with a quiet thump that gets drowned out by the moan she releases as Oliver's lips travel to the swell of her breast. Digging her bright blue nails into his scalp, Felicity urges him closer to her chest, gasps of pleasure escaping her mouth under his ministrations.

"More, Oliver. More."

"Oh, I can definitely do more."

The husky tone of his voice and the way she can feel the vibrations in his body as he speaks cause Felicity to shiver and press herself impossibly closer to Oliver. The hand on her shoulder blades slides down over the knot that holds her bikini top in place. Excitement and anticipation course through her veins, igniting her entire body in flames. However, he doesn't pull the strings undone just yet. Oliver teases Felicity with both his fingers and his mouth, teeth scraping lightly across the top of her chest, just above the fabric of her stars-and-stripes bathing suit top. She whimpers and squirms against him in earnest, to which he replies with a dark laugh just as he tugs at one end of the neat little bow holding her bikini, and what's left of her sanity, in place.

"Ollie! Dude, where are you? We've got a final game to play before we're crowned beach volleyball supreme champions and I'll be damned if we lose on a forfeit!"

Both of them immediately freeze at the sound of Tommy's voice coming from the kitchen, reality crashing down around them, shattering their lust-filled haze like a sledgehammer to glass.

"Oh shit."

In a matter of seconds, Felicity's feet are firmly planted back on the ground as both she and Oliver frantically scramble to find their clothing. He's more successful than she is, and Felicity starts to panic when she can't seem to find her tank top anywhere.

"Looking for this?"

She whirls around to find Oliver fully clothed and attempting to hide his smug grin as he offers her shirt to her. The look Felicity sends him is meant to be intimidating, but her heaving breaths and flushed face minimize the effect. She quickly snags the garment from him and tugs it over her head.

"Thanks."

A beat of silence passes during which neither of them knows what to say. What exactly is the protocol for pantry hook ups with your brother's best friend? Does she kiss him goodbye? Give him a hug? A high-five maybe? No, definitely not a high-five…

"Ollie! Come on, man!"

She jumps at the sound of her brother's voice, louder this time as he gets further into the kitchen. Flustered, she reaches out to grab Oliver's wrist and ushers him toward the pantry door, frantically whispering to him as they move.

"You have to go!"

He halts their movement before she can push him all the way out the door, and Felicity stares up at Oliver questioningly. A sudden look of determination makes its way onto his face, an intensity in his eyes that wasn't there a second ago giving her pause. He shifts their hands to weave his fingers in between hers and pulls her in close, his unoccupied hand rising to cup her cheek in a surprisingly tender moment.

"We'll talk about this later?"

It's not a question, not really. Oliver has made it clear that he's done with her avoidance act, which is probably a good thing in the long run. The sooner they confront this the sooner they can get over it, like ripping off a bandaid. Felicity nods once in agreement.

"Later. Now go before Tommy finds us!"

She allows Oliver to place one more quick peck against her lips before giving his chest a gentle shove. Reluctantly, he makes his way out of the pantry, but not before pausing at the door to send her a small smile that does nothing to help calm her rapidly beating heart.

With a sigh, Felicity leans back against one of the shelves, tipping her head backwards and closing her eyes as she takes deep breaths in and out in an attempt to calm her racing hormones. She realizes how screwed she really is when the action causes her to inhale Oliver's scent that's still hanging in the air around her and all over her clothes.

So much for avoiding the problem.


	3. Step Three

Step Three: Embrace the Problem

 _Your room. During the fireworks._

Felicity reads over the text for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes. That means once every six seconds if she's done the math correctly, and she always does the math correctly. She has this nervous feeling that she somehow read it wrong the first ninety-nine times. Ridiculous, yes, but she can't really focus on anything else with the stupid fluttering in her stomach that just won't quit.

Her stomach has been in a near constant knotted state since they first kissed on the beach, and every time their paths have crossed since the knots has pulled a little tighter. This is uncharted territory for Felicity. Not the kissing part because she's certainly locked lips with a few boys in her time, even had a steady boyfriend her junior year of high school before she realized how much of a loser Cooper really was. No, the uncharted territory is Oliver. He's older and extremely experienced and has a way of making her feel simultaneously at peace yet completely out of control. She's not quite sure if that's a good or a bad thing.

A loud thundering sound startles Felicity from her preoccupation as she quickly looks around to discern the source of the noise. Bright, colorful light from outside draws her attention, and she makes her way over toward the sliding glass door that leads to a small balcony connected to her bedroom. The booming increases in decibel as Felicity steps outside and onto the porch, shivering at the cool seaside breeze that greets her. A handful of sailboats bob up and down with the rise and fall of the sea off the shore, and people are gathered down below on the beach to watch the display of American pride light up the night sky in a brilliant array of colors.

Resting her forearms on the railing of the balcony, Felicity loses herself in the awesome show of power and beauty, finally settling the butterflies that have taken up residence within her. She ooh's and ah's with the crowd below, transfixed just as they are.

The moment of peace doesn't last long when a few minutes into the show, Felicity feels the presence of another person behind her. She knows who it is before she even turns around to acknowledge him, the hairs on her arms standing in awareness as she practically feels the heat of his gaze on her back. Taking a few deep breaths, Felicity slowly shifts her stance so that she's leaning back against the railing, facing him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

They stand there, staring at one another and not really sure what to say next. Oliver looks… nervous. Which is weird. Not exactly weird given the situation, but weird given that he's Oliver Queen and Felicity has never, in her life, seen Oliver Queen get nervous. Especially not when it comes to girls. However, as he shifts on his Sperry-clad feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his American flag board shorts, everything about Oliver's body language screams nervous. Oddly, that gives Felicity a small bit of comfort and enough confidence to speak before he does.

"So… we kissed. Like a lot. And I'm pretty sure this bruise on the side of my neck is from you. That or this place is haunted and some evil spirit has it out for me, in which case we have bigger problems on our hands."

Her babbling seems to have the desired effect of easing Oliver's nerves, if just slightly. He diverts his eyes for a moment and runs a hand through his hair as he huffs out a laugh before moving away from the door. Slowly, Oliver crosses the deck to where she stands, leaving a careful amount of space between them. Probably a good thing considering they seem to be unable to keep their hands off each other as of late, especially when in close proximity.

"After all the summers we've vacationed at this place, I think we would know if evil spirits were shacking up in here."

Felicity laughs a little at that, more out of anxiousness and anticipation than anything else. She already brought up their encounters. The ball is in his court now.

Oliver licks his lips, pressing them together for a moment, gaining his composure. His features turn serious as he takes another step forward and carefully reaches for her hand. When she doesn't protest, his hold becomes more confident, his fingers threading between hers.

"First of all, I want you to know that if any of this makes you uncomfortable whatsoever I want you to tell me. You're young and Tommy's little sister and I would never want to take advantage - "

"Oliver," she cuts off the ridiculous notion as soon as she realizes where his spiel is going. "I am an adult. I make my own decisions. And stop acting like you're so much older than me when we're only three years apart. You're not some skeezebag hitting on an unsuspecting little girl."

Honestly, she's the one who pretty much mounted him on the beach. And got half naked with him in a pantry. And licked whipped cream off his abs.

That last one might have just been a product of her overactive imagination.

"Okay."

The response comes out quietly, a hint of endearment to match the soft smile on his face. His willingness to accept what she's said is a little bit startling. For as long as Felicity can remember, Oliver has always possessed a stubborn streak. She expected him to protest, if only just a little bit.

"Okay. So what's the second point?"

Oliver's smile turns into a grin at her question and he takes a step closer, encompassing her other hand in his unoccupied one.

"I want to take you to dinner."

Well that was unexpected. She thought they would maybe fool around some, enjoy their vacation together, that sort of thing. Not… date. Is this a date? Is he asking her out?

"I… Okay, I'm trying not to read too much into this, but it kind of sounds like you're asking me on a date. Like a date, date."

Felicity tries extremely hard to tamper down the hope she feels swelling in her chest, not wanting it to show on her face in case she has misread him. But Oliver just smiles wider, a small hint of that nervousness from before coloring his features. He almost looks a little shy, which somehow manages to make him even more attractive.

"Well, the implication with dinner would be, uh, that…. yeah."

She must be in some kind of Twilight Zone because she's pretty sure that Oliver Queen just stuttered over asking her to dinner. Instead of responding right away, Felicity gazes at him expectantly, encouragingly as he composes himself.

"Felicity, may I take you out to dinner? On a date, date?"

"Yes."

She barely lets him finish his request before giving her breathy reply, a smile breaking out across her face as a giggle bubbles up inside her. Her joy is mirrored in Oliver's expression as he gives a laugh of his own. His large, callused hands release her much smaller ones and move to cup her face as he leans down, intent clear in the way his bright blue eyes flicker toward her lips. Unlike before, their mouths don't press together immediately in a hungry coupling of lips and tongues. Instead Oliver pauses a breath away from her mouth and waits for Felicity to close the gap between them.

Rising on her toes, she presses her lips against his in a slow, tender kiss. This one is not rushed or desperate like the others. It is gentle and slowly building. One of Oliver's hands slides into her hair while the other palms Felicity's waist, drawing her in closer. Her own slide up his muscled torso to rest over his chest, and Felicity smiles into the kiss when she feels the racing of his heart beneath her palm.

The vague sound of fireworks booming in the background barely registers as their lips, tongues, bodies slide against one another, and even though she isn't actually watching the show, Felicity thinks it's the best one yet.

They haven't figured out what exactly this is or where it's going. They haven't talked about what they are going to say to Tommy, who is most definitely going to have a few words for them when he finds out. But that's okay. Because right now it's just the two of them getting lost in this moment, in each other. Everything beyond that can wait.

Maybe, just maybe this problem isn't such a bad one to have after all.

 **...**

 **Author's Note: Alright so that's a wrap on this 'verse! I'm sorry there wasn't any smut, but I think this rounded it out pretty well. I was struggling between the physical vs. emotional development between the two of them and this helped me balance it out and set them up for hopefully a loving and long lasting relationship.**

 **Thanks for reading!**  
 **\- Bri**


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